


Duty

by butterflyslinky



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gang Rape, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigrid has her duty. Fili won't let her die for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty

**Author's Note:**

> For the Hobbit Kink Meme prompt [here.](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25651970#t25651970)

Fili did not go to Dale often, but he made a point of going down every few weeks, usually to do some shopping or just get away from court for a while. But no matter what his actual aim was, he always found time to see Sigrid, to sit next to her in the village square for a few hours, having a drink and exchanging the news that was not conveyed through diplomatic meetings.

These meetings were quite useful, of course, but they were also very enjoyable. Sigrid was an engaging sort, the kind who Fili had no qualms about sharing gossip with, especially gossip his uncle would prefer to be kept quiet. And in return, Fili had more insights into the goings-on in Dale than any other dwarf.

Today, Fili arrived at their usual place, ordered his customary ale, and waited. It never took long for Sigrid to hear he was in town and join him.

And join him she did, sitting down on the bench beside him quietly, so sudden that he wasn’t even aware of her until she was settled. “News?” he asked.

“The trade agreements have been made,” she said, though she didn’t look very happy. “Father and Merchant Adair have worked out a deal that will keep trade with the Fells open.”

“That’s good,” Fili said. “I mean…the Fells have many of the resources Dale needs…and I’m sure Erebor will be glad to buy whatever’s left over.”

“Part of the agreement is that I am to marry the merchant,” Sigrid added.

“Oh.” Fili didn’t know quite what to say to that. “Well…do you like him?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t spent very much time with him,” she said. “He seems a merry enough fellow, very friendly with my father…I have no reason to dislike him.”

“But you do?” Fili asked.

“I don’t exactly like him,” she said carefully. “Sometimes, when I’m in the room, he gives me a look I don’t like…as though I’m an object and he’s assessing my value. But as I’ve said, he has given no reason for me to refuse him.”

“Well, then,” Fili said. “I wish you happiness. I’m sure that once you’ve settled in, you’ll get along…unless you want me to make a better offer before then.”

“No,” Sigrid said. “Thank you, but I’d rather not put my sister in the line of fire next…and I wouldn’t want you to marry someone you didn’t want. Besides, I’m sure your uncle has a whole list of dwarrowdams for you to look over.”

“Well, yes,” Fili admitted. “But he won’t force me into anything.”

“I am not forced,” Sigrid insisted. “If I had any reason to reject him, my father would back out of the deal immediately. But I do not, and I will not ruin this because of a mere feeling.” She was quiet for a moment. “You will come to the wedding, won’t you?”

“It would hardly be good diplomacy if I didn’t,” Fili assured her.

*

“You’re going to let her marry someone else?” Kili repeated in disbelief.

“It’s not a matter of letting her,” Fili answered. “I mean, her father has already made the agreement. Not much I can do about it…and she didn’t want me to stop it, anyway.”

“But she’s your One!” Kili insisted.

“I don’t know if she’s my One,” Fili countered. “I do know that she’s my friend and I’m not going to get in the way of my friend’s future.”

Kili rolled his eyes. “You said she doesn’t like him,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better for her to marry someone she at least knows?”

“Men do things differently,” Fili said. “Their marriages are more like contracts that ours. Love and happiness are rarely a factor for them, especially for princesses like Sigrid.”

“But don’t you want her to be happy?”

“Of course I do, Ki,” Fili sighed. “But would she really be any happier in Erebor than in the Fells, away from her race, always an outsider no matter who she’s married to?”

“Tauriel doesn’t mind,” Kili said. “And she’s even more of an outsider than Sigrid is!”

“Yes, well, there’s a difference between being a war hero married to the spare heir and being a girl of Dale married to the crown prince,” Fili pointed out. “Which brings me to the next point of Uncle won’t allow it. I have to make a proper dwarvish marriage with a proper dwarvish courtship and have proper dwarvish babies. I don’t think Sigrid fits anywhere in the definition of proper dwarvish.”

“Diplomatic ties,” Kili pointed out.

“If Thorin wanted diplomatic ties like that, he would have already taken a wife from Dale,” Fili said. “Look…this is what’s going to happen and you bitching me out over it isn’t going to change anything. She’s getting married in a month and I’m going to support her until she moves to the Fells.”

“The Fells is near the Iron Hills, right?” Kili asked.

“Right next to them,” Fili confirmed. “Like Dale is to us. Why?”

“Nothing,” Kili said. “Just…if anyone ever needs to go see Dain about something, I’d suggest you be it.”

*

There was absolutely no reason to dislike the man called Adair that Fili could see, but Sigrid was right. There was something definitely off about him.

Still, there was not much Fili could do about the arrangement except stand there and watch, embrace Sigrid after and wish her luck.

“Write to me,” he said. “When you’re in the Fells…I want to know how you fare.”

“I will,” she promised. “I will miss you, Fili.”

He waved his hand. “Don’t you worry,” he said. “You’ll have your husband…I hope he’s everything you want.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box. “Here…it’s a wedding present for you…and if you’re ever in need, just show it to the guards at the gates of the Iron Hills and you’ll be allowed in instantly.”

“Thank you,” she said. “But I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

*

Sigrid had her own misgivings about the marriage. She had been honest when she told Fili she had no real reason to dislike her new husband, but there was still something about him that unsettled her.

Or maybe it was just her fear of marriage itself that was getting to her. At barely eighteen, Sigrid had absolutely no experience with men and wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Oh, she knew the mechanics of it well enough—her sister’s nursemaid had made sure to educate her daughters on that point before she had retired—but it wasn’t something she was particularly eager to experience. 

But this was her wedding night, and she knew what was expected, so she did not protest when late that night, there was a knock on her door and her husband came in as she was undressing.

She kept her back to him as she continued to unlace her dress, but he must have noticed how her spine stiffened when he approached. “Nervous, princess?” he asked softly, standing right behind her and running a hand over her shoulder.

“I have not known a man like this before,” she admitted. “Forgive me if I am not entirely prepared.”

He laughed and Sigrid could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Oh, it’s easy,” he said. “You just lie there all nice and pretty and I do the difficult bit.” His hand moved down to where her dress was half-unlaced. “So stop worrying.”

She nodded and allowed him to finish undoing her dress and get it off of her. His hands were soft, but his touch was all but gentle as he touched her bare neck. “Quite pretty,” he said, the smell of his breath making her flinch. “Now get out of that underdress and lie down.”

She did, blushing furiously as he looked at her when she lay down on her back. He stood and stared at her for several long minutes. She began to cross her arms over her chest, feeling far too self-conscious about how he was looking at her.

“Don’t do that!” he said sharply. She jumped and moved her arms away, watching him curiously as he started fumbling with his trousers. Again, Sigrid was vaguely familiar with male anatomy—she had helped in the healing tents during the Battle of the Five Armies, but her focus had been on more pressing things then.

Now, with a man coming at her, with very clear intent, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. She wanted to run, wanted to push him back, wanted to scream…but she didn’t. This was her duty. This was her life now.

Then he was over her, the sour smell of his breath stronger than ever, pressing down on her, one hand groping at her breast, the other on one of her wrists as though daring her to try and fight. He parted her legs with a knee and pushed into her roughly. She couldn’t help but cry out then. It hurt, oh fuck, it hurt, and she felt sure that there was blood…but that’s how it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? That’s what the girls always said behind their hands, whispering where they thought their parents couldn’t here. It was supposed to hurt the first time, supposed to bleed to prove she was pure…they said that would go away as time went on.

So she lay there, him on top of her, pushing hard. She closed her eyes and cried, but she didn’t fight. He was drunk now…perhaps tomorrow, he would be better to her.

*

The Fells was a day’s journey from Dale. Sigrid was glad that it was fairly close, but she did worry about it a bit. She barely knew her husband—what on earth would they talk about?

Her father embraced her warmly as she prepared to go, and her brother and sister both clung to her for a very long time, but eventually, they let her go and she climbed onto the wagon. Adair laughed, saying that her family was very sweet to resist her leaving so much.

But leave she did, on the merchant’s wagon, keeping her head down and trying to ignore the discomfort from the night before. Adair made no mention of it, so she said nothing, either.

He talked the whole way, telling her about the Fells and about his work, lecturing about sale prices and products. Sigrid didn’t have much interest in the life of a merchant, but as a merchant’s wife, she listened, knowing the information might be useful one day.

They arrived back in the Fells at nightfall. It took less than an hour to move everything from the wagon into the house. Once that was done, Adair looked to Sigrid and ordered her to start on dinner.

She found the kitchen easily, and could tell right off that Adair had been a bachelor for far too long. She quickly set to work getting the room clean enough to work in, but it took quite a lot of time, and by the time she had actually started on the food, Adair had come in, looking a bit cross.

“What’s taking so long?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Sigrid said. “It was dirty and I needed to clean first…”

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her around. She cried out in protest, but he ignored her. “Are you saying I’m a slob, princess? Not good enough for the high and mighty?”

“No!” she protested. “I just…I like having my kitchen a certain way!”

He slammed her against the wall and she whimpered, trying to get away. “When I say cook, I mean to cook!” he shouted. “You can do your cleaning after! Understood?”

She nodded frantically and he let go. “Now get back to work,” he snapped, and stalked out of the kitchen.

She went back to her cooking, tears falling down her face. Half an hour later, she set the table and called her husband in.

He didn’t say a word about what had happened before, so she didn’t, either. After dinner, she washed the dishes, and went up to bed.

Adair came in a few minutes later. She didn’t move, hoping he would think her asleep—she didn’t want a repeat of the night before. But as he climbed up beside her, she knew it wasn’t to be so.

*

A month later, it hadn’t gotten better. Every day, Adair found some fault with Sigrid, and no matter how small, she always suffered for it. He hit her often, with fists and sometimes a belt, leaving her cowering and desperately trying to protect her vital organs. Every night, she went to his bed, and every night he had her. She didn’t fight him, but the pain didn’t lessen with time, with him pushing in too deep and biting her neck and breasts. There was no love in the act, only frenzied lust. She hated it, but this was her duty.

She learned quickly how he wanted things done. She kept the house clean, spotless even, and she cooked food he liked. She would mind the shop when he was out, and not protest when he mocked her. She knew she needed to obey him, that she needed to please him. Perhaps if she did, it would get better.

It didn’t.

Then one night, he came home drunk, with several friends in tow, also drunk. Sigrid looked up from where she was scrubbing the floor, then quickly looked down again, hoping they wouldn’t notice her.

“There she is!” Adair called, far too loudly. “The high and mighty princess!”

The other men laughed. Sigrid scrubbed the floor more furiously, trying to ignore them.

“Good for something, at least,” one said. “And I don’t mean scrubbing your floors!”

“Though she is doing a good job at that,” another added. “Gives a nice view.”

“I know,” Adair said lecherously. “That’s why I have her do it so much!”

“Ever take advantage of the position?” someone asked.

Sigrid fought back tears, remembering just a week before when he had indeed done so. She still hadn’t repaired her dress from that day.

“Worth it,” Adair said. “Feel free.”

Sigrid looked up, shocked. Surely her husband wouldn’t…

But the man was already approaching her, even as she scrambled to get to her feet. Adair stepped forward and backhanded her across the face, knocking her back down. “Hands and knees, princess,” he snarled. “And be good.”

She whimpered, but got back into the position he had ordered. She closed her eyes and braced herself as her dress was torn off, as the men laughed. She felt hands on her, touching her in places she never wanted anyone to touch, then the pain of someone pushing in, someone who was not her husband, not that it was any better or worse, hands on her hips, squeezing...

“How’s her mouth?” someone asked and she tried to struggle, but whoever was behind her hit her and she stopped.

She didn’t hear the answer. She was just aware that the next moment, another man was in front of her, pushing her head down, forcing his way into her mouth. She tried to scream, but couldn’t. All she did was make them all laugh again.

She stayed there all night, on her knees, the men using her again and again, hitting and biting and scratching her...

They finally stopped very late into the night. The other men left the house, still laughing. Adair stood above Sigrid, smirking down at her.

“Enjoy it, princess?” he asked. “Like being a whore?”

She could only sob in response, unable to even move from where she was left lying on the floor. 

“Well, don’t think you’re done,” he said. “You’re still my wife.”

“Please…” she gasped. “Please, no more…no more…”

“Get up and come to bed,” he said.

“No…no, please…”

“Get up, bitch!” He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet, ignoring her cries as he dragged her down the hall to the bed room. She screamed and cried and struggled as he picked her up and threw her on the bed and pinned her down.

*

After three months of marriage, Sigrid had given up. The beatings still came, along with degrading words. She was still pinned to his bed every night, used and then ignored for the rest of the night. Sometimes other men would come and she’d be passed around, used by all of them, but she no longer fought it. It hurt, but she couldn’t change it. This was her lot. This was her duty.

Indeed, Sigrid hardly did anything anymore. She still cooked, and cleaned, but she didn’t speak unless she had to, barely ate unless forced to, never looked at anyone, never complained, never fought. There was no point.

She thought about running away, going back to Dale and begging her father to let her leave this monster, or going to the Iron Hills and sending a message to Fili to please come save her, but she knew it was no use. Even if one of them came for her, her husband would track her down and drag her back. They wouldn’t be able to stop him.

So her mind turned to the other way out. It would be so easy, to slip poison into her food, to take a knife to her own throat. Anything to be free of him. She thought about killing him, but she would be caught and hanged, so the results were equivalent. And even if he died and she got away with it, that may not change things. Her father had given her away so easily before—who was to say her next husband wouldn’t be even worse?

But just when she had resolved to end it in any way she could, her husband came in with news.

“Several dwarves of Erebor have arrived,” he said excitedly. He liked to tell things to Sigrid, even though she never answered. She figured that she was nothing more than a sex pet, but people like someone to talk at. 

But this time, she dared glance up in hope. “Really?” she said, trying not to sound excited.

“And they’re from the royal class,” Adair continued, ignoring her response. “Including the young princes. They’re headed to the Iron Hills, of course, but they’re close enough that they want to look at our markets. Which means we need the best in the shop front!”

“Of course,” Sigrid agreed. “The very best.” 

Adair was in such a good mood that it was easy to get him to drink more than usual. He passed out at the table. Sigrid washed the dishes quickly before she crept up the stairs.

In her bag was the box Fili had given her at her wedding. She had never opened it, afraid that her husband would take and sell what was inside it. But now she had at least a few minutes to look.

Inside was a necklace, a gold chain on which hung a small sapphire. Sigrid could tell it was worth quite a lot, and definitely of dwarvish make—the type of masterwork that would never be sold at market, but kept for a queen…or a lover.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at it. She should have accepted when he offered to make a better deal with her father…should have trusted her instinct and refused the match…should have done something, anything…and not it was too late and she was trapped.

She sat on the bed as long as she dared, staring down at the necklace, the only reminder she had that someone loved her, at least, before she hastily returned it to its box and hid it away in her wardrobe. She wouldn’t lose that. After all, she might still need it if she ever did decide to run.

*

Fili was glad when Thorin asked him to put together a company to go to the Iron Hills. No one had heard anything from Sigrid since her marriage and Fili was starting to worry.

Not that he said that. He tried to assure himself several times that she was probably fine, probably just too blissfully wed to bother writing. She was fine. She had to be fine.

If she wasn’t fine…

But no. He wasn’t going to worry. He would look in on her on the way…maybe they could go to the village square and have a drink and catch up like they used to. 

Maybe once he saw how happy she was, he would stop pining…no, worrying. He was not pining, no matter what Kili and Tauriel said. Sigrid was married. Married and out of his reach, even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, thank you very much. He was not pining.

He missed his friend. That was all.

Once they arrived in the Fells, it was fairly easy to ask a few questions and be directed to the correct shop. Fili gave his company the rest of the day off and headed in the direction he had been told. 

It was a fairly large shop that seemed to sell anything that had a price tag, though admittedly the numbers were a bit higher than what any of it was worth. Fili entered and frowned at a shelf, which held several gold rings, all of them marked up to three times their actual value. He hoped this merchant wasn’t actually trying to sell to dwarves—he would be laughed out of the market.

But he wasn’t here for overpriced junk. “Sigrid?” he called.

There were footsteps from the back of the shop and she appeared from a back room. She was thin, far too thin, and very pale. Her dress was not what Fili would expect for the wife of someone charging this much money, but her eyes…her eyes were dead, lifeless, utterly despondent, and Fili knew that something was very, very wrong, even as a smile crossed her face.

“Fili,” she said, her voice containing a sort of false cheer that set him even more on edge. “I didn’t know you’d be visiting.”

“Sigrid, what happened?” he asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. He knew what happy wives looked like—his brother had one, after all—and Sigrid looked far from happy.

“Nothing,” she said, a bit too forcefully. “I’m just tired…but come in! I’ve missed you.”

He went to her, looking up at her pale face. “Is he treating you right?” he asked quietly.

She started, but then forced the smile back onto her face. “Of course,” she said. “I mean…he’s upheld his part of the bargain and he keeps a roof over my head and feeds me…”

“But does he treat you right?”

She didn’t look at him. “I’m all right,” she insisted. She turned to lead him into the back and he caught her wrist. She flinched as though in pain and that was enough for Fili to push her sleeve back, revealing a deep black patter of bruises under his own fingers.

“Did he do this to you?”

She swallowed heavily. “It’s nothing,” she said. “He just gets a little rough sometimes.”

He gave her a hard look. “Sigrid,” he said firmly. “You are going to tell me what’s happened.”

She stared at him for a moment before she finally fell to her knees, sobbing. Fili immediately moved to put his arms around her, letting her cry into his chest, petting her hair gently. “He hates me,” she sobbed. “He treats me like…like a slave…an object…it hurts, Fili, it hurts so much…every time…and I can’t leave, he’ll find me again…I want to escape…I want to get out, any way I can…”

“I know,” he said. He petted her for several minutes, making sure to keep his hands gentle. Mahal knew she’d already been through enough. “If I had known…”

“It’s my fault,” she said. “I never should have agreed.”

“This is not your fault,” he said firmly. “None of it is your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s your father’s for giving you away without finding out what the son of a bitch was really like.”

“Please don’t blame Da,” she said. “He didn’t know…he was just doing what he thought was right.”

“Do you want me to take you away?” Fili asked. “I can take you to Erebor…tell the guards to keep him out…”

“And spend the rest of my life hiding in a mountain?” she asked.

“If you don’t, the rest of your life may be distressingly short.”

She shook her head. “This is my duty,” she said. “This is what I must do.”

Fili held her tighter. “Please,” he said. “Let me take you away from here.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “He’ll find me…he’d declare war on you if you tried to shield me…”

“Sigrid…”

“Please, Fili…just…just leave me…don’t put yourself or your kingdom in danger over me.”

“Once I tell your father…”

“What will he do? Attack the Fells? His people have enough problems without worrying about the useless daughter who can’t even be married without screwing it up…”

“Stop it,” Fili said. “You have done your duty…more than that…and you do not deserve this. And if your father won’t fight for you, I will because…because I love you, Sigrid, and I have regretted not saying anything from the moment I stood by and watched you marry him.”

Her tears came faster. “Don’t love me,” she begged. “If you love me, it makes me think it could be over…I can’t afford that.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. “Dwarves love once, with all their hearts, and no matter what happens, they cannot stop loving their One…I would trade all the gold of Erebor to get you back and keep you safe…I would give up my crown to see you happy again. Whatever I can do, please let me do it…please let me help you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes bright from tears. “I wish you could help me,” she said. “But not even the promise of the Lonely Mountain would free me this time.” She leaned up and kissed Fili, softly, tenderly, but barely a second before she pulled away and stood up abruptly. “I’m supposed to mind the shop,” she said. “Adair is down at the market, trying to convince the rest of your party that his goods are worth looking at.”

“They aren’t,” Fili said. “I could make better in a heartbeat.” He looked at her seriously. “I will find a way to save you,” he said. 

She looked away. “I don’t think I can be saved.”

*

Adair came home very late that night, looking extremely cross. Sigrid was sure she knew why—Fili had some manners when it came to declining a purchase, but her experience told her that not all the dwarves would be.

So Sigrid was very surprised when Adair opened with “I heard the crown prince came to the shop.”

She hesitated. Had Fili confronted him, in spite of her pleas not to? Had someone else come in while they were talking? Did one of the other dwarves say something careless about Fili’s feelings for her?

“He did,” she finally answered. “But he did not buy anything.”

“So why did he come in?” Adair asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Sigrid could not meet his eye. “We were acquainted back in Dale,” she mumbled. “He merely wanted to see how marriage suited me.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That I am well,” she said. 

He stepped toward her and grabbed her by the hair. She whimpered, but didn’t struggle against his hold. “See, when he came to the market, he was asking a lot of funny questions,” Adair said. “Asking about when we’d return to Dale, how often other people saw you…stuff like that. And I told him, I said that we would not be going back there.”

Sigrid looked up, startled. “But…the agreement…it said you would trade with Dale…”

“We won’t return. I’ll be going, but you’re staying here…he’s plotting to steal you from me, isn’t he? Don’t think I didn’t notice how he looked at you at our wedding.”

“He wouldn’t…he can’t! Please!”

He slammed her head back against the wall. Sigrid screamed and he did it again. Black spots swam in front of her eyes.

“THAT’S WHY HE WAS HERE, WASN’T HE?” Adair screamed. “CARRYING ON BEHIND MY BACK…I WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH, SO YOU TAKE A LOVER WORTH YOUR TIME? SOME STUPID DWARF WHO CAN GIVE YOU PRETTY THINGS?”

“No!” she protested. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t…”

His fist came up and he punched her in the eye. She cried, trying to pull away, but she was backed against the wall with him holding her.

“Filthy whore...you’ll sleep with anyone, won’t you? Or is it just royalty who gets the special treatment?”

“Please…” she gasped. “Please stop…”

More hits, to her face and chest, each one knocking her into the wall again. She was sure she was going to black out soon, maybe even die…

But then he stopped and threw her on the ground. “You’re not going to Dale,” he declared. “And if that prince starts hanging around, he’s not going back either.”

*

The dwarves had not meant to stop in Dale on their way home a month later, but Fili insisted. He sent the others off, to freshen their horses and warn Erebor of their imminent arrival, and then turned toward the house of Bard the Master.

Bard was a bit surprised when Fili came striding into his office, but he recovered quickly. “Your Highness,” he said. “What brings you here?”

“Sigrid,” Fili said.

Bard started. “Have you seen her?” he asked, a note of desperation in his voice. Fili softened a bit.

“I have,” he said. “We were in the area and I dropped in.” He took a deep breath and said bluntly, “She’s not well.”

“Is she ill?” Bard asked in alarm.

“Not ill,” Fili said. “But her husband mistreats her. She’s fading in on herself…possibly dying. She’s lost any will she had to live. He uses her cruelly and she won’t last much longer.”

Bard looked down. “And what would you have me do?” he asked quietly.

“Anything!” Fili said. “She needs your help. She needs to get away from him!”

“By our law, even if she left, he could come after her,” Bard said. “He would have every right to reclaim her. Even if he were locked away for a while, that would not end the marriage.”

Fili turned and punched the wall in anger. Bard didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know he would…”

Fili nodded. “I know,” he said. “But know that your daughter suffers for your city. Think about that the next time someone comes to make a deal.” He glared at Bard. “And for fuck’s sake, do not promise Tilda to anyone until you have a measure of him!”

Bard nodded. “I will not make the same mistake,” he said. “But for Sigrid, the only release is her husband’s death…though after this conversation, I may not be too bereaved over it.”

*

By the time Fili had arrived back in Erebor, he had already formed a plan. Of course, there were a lot of variables, but he felt sure he could predict the actions of Sigrid’s husband well enough to deal with the problem discretely.

Indeed, it was only another month later that Fili heard the news—that Sigrid’s husband had returned without her. The man said she had stayed behind to mind the shop, and Fili could only hope that was the true reason. Then again, he felt sure there would have been more of a stir if she had died.

But beyond that concern, Fili was quite glad that Sigrid was safe in the Fells for now. No one could possibly suspect her of being involved in what he was about to do.

Once it was confirmed that the wretched man was staying in Dale and would be there for some time, Fili headed down to the market of Erebor. He walked along the thoroughfare for a while before he spotted the man he needed and approached him.

“Hello, Nori,” he whispered.

“Your Highness,” Nori said, a mockery of politeness. “How may I be of service to you?”

Fili fell into step beside him. “There’s a certain man,” he said. “A merchant, by the name of Adair. He’s currently staying in Dale, but he’s from the Fells—do you know of him?”

“Believe he married the Master’s daughter,” Nori said. “Though she’s nowhere to be seen. But I know him—drinks too much, and gets violent after. Why?”

“Well,” Fili said, taking out a small pouch of money and weighing it contemplatively. “I was just thinking that it would be such a shame if a man such as him were to run into trouble…trouble that would prevent him from returning home to his wife ever again.”

Nori raised his eyebrows. “Aye, that would be unfortunate,” he agreed. “But why wouldn’t he?”

“If he drinks so much and gets into fights, it would be so easy for an accident to happen,” Fili said carefully. “Or for him to be robbed going home…and for that robbery to go horribly wrong.” He handed the pouch to Nori. “That would be very, very sad.”

Nori nodded and slipped the pouch into his pocket. “It would be,” he said. “And that poor girl…to be widowed at eighteen would be a horrible tragedy.”

“Terrible,” Fili agreed. “Simple awful for her.”

*

Nori wasn’t normally one for hired murder, but when the Crown Prince of Erebor hands you a bag of money and tells you to do something, you do it, no questions asked.

So when three days later the news was spreading that a rich merchant with ties to the master’s house had been murdered in an alleyway, Fili was not especially surprised. Botched robbery, they said, the man’s money was all gone. Clean death, though, just a quick cut across the throat. He’d been drinking in one of the lowest bars in Dale—anyone could have done it.

Fili went to his customary spot in the village square and got a drink. He wasn’t especially shocked when Tilda sat down next to him a few minutes later—she had taken over her sister’s role of exchanging gossip, though it wasn’t quite the same.

“Da wants to know if you did it,” she said bluntly.

Fili sipped at his ale. “And what makes him think I was involved?”

“He said you didn’t like how he treated Sigrid…”

“I didn’t.”

“And that you’re an impulsive sort...”

“Not impulsive enough to skip a council meeting to go kill someone. Ask anyone, I was in Erebor that night.”

“And that you have a whole network of spies and assassins…”

“That you’re part of.”

“Fili,” Tilda said seriously. “Did you hire someone to kill Adair?”

Fili raised his eyebrows at her. “Do you have any reason to think I did beyond my dislike of his behavior?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Your da didn’t like it, either,” Fili pointed out. “Is he under suspicion?”

Tilda glared at him. “He’s going to run an investigation.”

“I wish him the best of luck.” Fili stood up abruptly. “But right now, I’m going to need to borrow some horses. Sigrid should come back here, shouldn’t she?”

“Yes,” Tilda said. “I’ll tell Da you’re fetching her back.”

*

In spite of her sorrow of not seeing her family, Sigrid was actually quite relieved when her husband took off for Dale. It meant she would have at least some time alone, without him.

As soon as she was certain he was gone, Sigrid up the stairs as quickly as possible. In very little time, she was all packed, Fili’s necklace around her neck and hidden beneath her dress. Bag in hand, she went back downstairs and stepped out of the house for the first time since she had arrived. She locked the door and pocketed the key before she turned and looked to the Iron Hills.

Fili had given her the strength she needed. He loved her, and he would save her. She had to trust that he would, because she knew Adair would never let her go. But that didn’t mean she had to spend any more time in that house.

It hurt to walk. He had used her so roughly so many times that her legs could barely support her weight, but she knew that borrowing a horse would be worse. No one tried to stop her as she walked through the town towards the mountains. She was slow because of the pain, but she was bolstered by the knowledge that she would be free. That Fili would come for her.

It took most of the night, but she kept herself going with soft songs that she had sung with him, songs of lost mountains and beautiful things, songs in the strange dwarvish language that she didn’t understand but could learn by rote. It strengthened her, but it was still a relief when she arrived at the gates of the dwarvish kingdom. It was so late that she knew no one would open to her, so she simply collapsed by the gate to wait until morning. 

She was woken a few hours later by a rough voice and someone poking at her. She looked up and saw a very fierce-looking dwarf warrior frowning at her. “What are ye doin’, girl?” he asked. “This ain’t no place for ye!”

Sigrid flinched back. “I’m sorry,” she said reflexively. “Please…I didn’t mean…”

The dwarf’s face softened considerably. “Easy, girl, I ain’t gonna hurt ye,” he said. “I was just surprised. The women from the Fells usually don’t come up here alone, let alone sleep at the gates.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I…I needed to escape and…and Prince Fili of Erebor said that I could show you this and come here if I needed.” She pulled the necklace form under her collar.

The guard’s eyes widened. “He gave ye that?” he asked in wonder.

“For my wedding,” she said. “And now I need to get away…and I need to send him a message.”

The dwarf nodded. “Ye’d better come in then.” He turned and opened the gate. Sigrid got shakily to her feet and followed him inside.

The guard led her through several corridors to a small throne room. He bowed to the man on the throne, who Sigrid recalled was called Lord Dain. “My Lord, this young lady has come for help,” the guard said.

Dain waved her forward. Sigrid stepped toward him and curtsied as well as she could, flinching at the pain in her knees. “What is your name, girl?” Dain asked. “And why do you seek aid from us and not your own people?”

“My name is Sigrid, daughter of Bard,” she said, remembering how the dwarves introduced themselves. “I was married four months ago to a man of the Fells...and I no longer wish to be married to him.” She held up the necklace. “Prince Fili of Erebor is my…friend…and he gave this as a wedding gift, saying that if I were ever in need, I could come here.”

Dain raised his eyebrows. “Friend?” he asked. “That is not a gift one gives to a friend, especially when she is marrying another.”

“I realize that now,” Sigrid admitted. “But that is not the reason I wish to leave my husband. He is a cruel man, and if I stay with him much longer, I will die. Please…if it is in your power…can a message be sent to Fili, telling him where I am and that I need him to come?”

Dain looked at her and sighed. “For love of my cousin, I will have your message sent,” he said. “And until he responds, I invite you to remain in these halls.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid whispered.

“Grokek, find Lady Sigrid a room,” Dain ordered. “And see to it that she is fed and dressed and that a healer has a look at her.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Grokek said, and he led Sigrid off.

*

Fili arrived at the gates of the Iron Hills five days later with two horses in tow. He was admitted immediately and one of the guards led him through the halls to a door to one of the bedchambers.

Fili knocked on the door. It took a few minutes before it opened and a dwarf woman looked out. “Prince Fili!” she exclaimed, curtseying. “You’re sooner than we expected.”

“I was already on my way,” Fili said. “I crossed paths with the messenger as I rode in.” He was anxiously trying to look past her. “Is she--?”

“She’ll be all right,” the healer said. “Mostly just exhausted, the poor dear…she’s had a rough life.”

“I know,” Fili said. “Will she see me?”

The healer smiled. “She’s been asking for you daily,” she said. “Come in.”

Sigrid was lying in bed, still looking very frail, but her smile when she saw Fili was a bit more genuine. He rushed to her side and took her hand. “How are you?” he asked.

“Better,” she said. “Have you come to take me away?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “And…and you don’t need to fear anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean…?”

“He’s dead,” Fili said bluntly. “Botched robbery. Drinking. Not uncommon, though your father’s not putting any particular effort into finding the culprit.”

She gave him a pointed look and Fili shook his head. “I didn’t kill him,” he said. “I promise.”

She nodded then. “I should be sad,” she said. “But I cannot find much sorrow for him.” She sighed. “I suppose I must go through with the year of public mourning anyway.”

“I suppose,” Fili said. “But for now, I am to take you back to your father…if you’re well enough to ride.”

She nodded. “I am well enough to go anywhere with you.”

*

A year passed. Sigrid took the year of mourning, as was expected. Fili did not see her throughout, as was customary, but from what Tilda told him on market days, she was doing much better. Fili was glad to hear it and anticipated the day she would be truly free throughout.

But the day finally came, and Fili knocked on the door to the Master’s house with a small smile on his face.

Bard received him cordially and did not blink when Fili asked to speak to him privately. They went to a small parlor.

“I think I know what you’re after,” Bard said. “And I do not know if I should give her so quickly again.”

“I understand,” Fili said. “Which is why I have not come to ask to marry her, merely to court her…to prove myself worthy of her, to show her that I do love her…and to give her time to decide if she wants to marry again. Besides,” he added with a slight smile. “My uncle is already reluctant about the match. The least I can do is go through a proper dwarvish courting.”

“And how long does a proper dwarvish courting last?” Bard asked.

“A year,” Fili said. “At minimum.”

Bard nodded. “I will permit it,” he said. “If she consents.”

“Of course,” Fili said. 

Bard rose and left the room. A few minutes later, the door opened and Sigrid came into the room.

Fili stood and looked at her. She looked better now than she had a year ago. Her face was rounder, she carried herself higher, and her eyes shone with a new light. She smiled at Fili with genuine delight and he crossed the room to her. She knelt before him, bringing them to a more equitable height. “I accept your offer,” she said simply.

He nodded. “I will do my best for you,” he said. “And I swear that I will never do anything to hurt you.

*

They married a year later. The celebration lasted late into the night. In spite of that, Fili did not drink very much. No one questioned this.

Sigrid was still nervous about what was expected after. She loved Fili, of course, but she couldn’t help but remember her nights with Adair, in pain and shame with no love involved.

But she knew the laws and customs, so she did not object when Fili followed her to the room she had been given in Erebor. She still kept her back to him as she undressed. He did not approach her.

“We do not have to do this if you aren’t ready,” he said. “No one will have to know.”

She shook her head. “It will be done,” she said. “It is my duty.”

“No,” Fili said firmly. “Duty has nothing to do with this. You are free to refuse at any time.”

She nodded, but continued unlacing her dress. She shed it and her underdress and went to the bed and lay down on her back. “I do want this,” she said, surprising even herself. “I want you…I want to be a good wife to you.”

He nodded and began to undress. She watched, fascinated by the different proportions of a dwarf, no longer even remotely self-conscious now that he was stripping down as well.

He came to her and knelt beside her on the bed. He ran a hand through her hair before he leaned down to kiss her, softly, tenderly, exploring her mouth with his. One hand continued to run through her hair, while the other petted her neck and shoulder, never straying to any other place. She kissed him back, daring to run her hands over his back.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes for a long time. “I mean it,” he said. “If you want me to stop, say so and I will.”

She nodded. “I trust you,” she said.

He kissed her again, just as softly, then moved down, kissing her throat gently, letting his hands stray lower. She lay back and let him, closing her eyes and just letting herself feel. He kissed her throat, her collar, then moved down, lightly kissing her breasts, never biting down, tasting more than claiming.

She felt her body growing hot as his hands ran over her legs. His hands were rough from swords and forges, but he never pressed her. It didn’t hurt when he touched her, not even as one hand moved up between her legs and started petting the damp area there. She whimpered in pleasure as his fingers stroked and probed her gently, not pushing in, straying around her entrance, letting her get used to the sensations.

“Fili,” she breathed in wonder. “Fili, this is…this is wonderful.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “Good,” he said. “It’s supposed to be.”

“I didn’t know,” she said.

He petted her hair with his spare hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” she said. “Just keep doing that.”

He did continue, letting his fingers slide in just a bit. She breathed deeply, relaxing her body for him, enjoying the new sensations. He kissed her lips, her neck, anywhere he could reach as he slowly, oh so slowly, slipped a finger inside her, loosening her.

She ran her hands down his chest, exploring him as much as he explored her, finding the places that made him groan, learning how this was supposed to be. 

After several long minutes of unhurried exploration, Fili pulled away from her. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “Please,” she breathed. “Take me.”

He pushed forward slowly, an inch at a time, watching her for any sign of distress. She smiled reassuringly and gave into him, pulling him closer to her, encouraging him. For a moment, as he gave into his passion, she was afraid, but the fear quickly turned to lust as he took her, kissed her, touched her in every way she found she enjoyed.

He loved her. And in that moment, that was all she ever wanted.


End file.
